


Midnight Worries

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop, Vulcan Cuddles, because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let’s cuddle.”</p>
<p>Anyone else might have missed the discomfort pass over Spock’s face. As it was, Jim just shrugged, and got comfortable where he was, instead. “Or not. Should probably just sleep anyways.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Worries

**Author's Note:**

> Cuddles.
> 
> Cuddles, man.

Jim almost felt bad slinking around at that hour of the night—well, whatever passed for night when one was drifting through space. Most people on his shift were asleep, was his point. But, of course, when the door slid back (at one knock, he might add) to reveal Spock, his first officer looked as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as a Vulcan ever did. If a little confused.

“Can I…help you?” Spock said, after taking a moment to search for the right words, somehow making it sound like a genuine inquiry instead of what it would have been from any human this late.

“Yeah. Maybe. Uh. Can I sleep here tonight?” Jim asked, rubbing at one of his eyes and trying not to wince. He shouldn’t feel weird about asking, but he was still working out how he felt about being in a relationship where sharing a bed didn’t automatically imply _not_ sleeping. “I mean, the next few hours before our shift.”

“Certainly.”

He was surprised at the amount of relief he felt at that one word and Spock turning to walk back to his bed—Jim shut the door behind him and followed, toeing his shoes off before collapsing face-first into the space Spock had left for him, said Vulcan laying ramrod straight under the blankets, hands folded over his midsection.

“How d’you sleep under a blanket, you keep it so fucking hot in here,” Jim mumbled into a pillow. He didn’t have to see Spock to imagine his expression, brows pulling together and bottom lip sticking out the smallest noticeable amount.

“The climate on Vulcan—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He turned to meet Spock’s irritated look with one of unabashed adoration, eyes threatening to drift closed already. The sleepy, fuzzy feelings only grew when Spock’s expression softened almost immediately in reaction. God, Jim was in deep shit, and he’d never felt so _great_ about it. “’M just complaining for the sake of complaining. It’s fun.”

“I fail to see how focusing on what displeases you is in any way entertaining.”

“What, you’ve never let off on anyone how annoying I can be?”

“No.”

Jim really needed to start getting used to Spock’s complete honesty about these things. He buried his head in the pillow for a moment to get a hold on himself before turning to look at him again.

“Let’s cuddle.”

Anyone else might have missed the discomfort pass over Spock’s face. As it was, Jim just shrugged, and got comfortable where he was, instead. “Or not. Should probably just sleep anyways.”

A few long moments of silence passed, in which Jim considered keeping his own quarters this temperature when he was trying to sleep, because it was doing a wonderful job of making him drowsy. Or maybe it was just the comfort of listening to Spock’s steady breathing beside him.

Then Spock moved—just a shuffling of fabric, at first, and then the bed inclined when he moved closer and not quite confidently slid an arm around Jim’s waist.

Jim peeked at him through the eye that wasn’t squished up against his pillow.

“Hey there.”

“Is this—”

Jim scooched over and kissed him, answering what that question was probably going to be, before squirming around to slot himself against Spock, sliding right into a comfortable position even if it meant tangling the sheets a little.

Jim sighed into Spock’s shoulder as the Vulcan adjusted himself to this new scenario, finally relaxing, which was a miracle in itself.

Physically relaxing, at least. There was no narcotic in existence that was as good as slipping into the brainspace of a completely zenned-out Vulcan, especially when you got there by _cuddling_ (though Jim would admit to a certain amount of bias here), but Spock didn’t seem to be letting him in. Jim’s mind was just conscious enough of his to brush up against the brick wall that was Spock’s mental shield.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, changing the mental picture of a wall into a door and knocking on it, not without humor.

“Yes,” answered Spock. “But I assume you sought me out due to worries of your own, and I do not think that knowing mine will help calm you.”

“Mm…I dunno,” Jim said. He took a moment to yawn before continuing, not expending much energy in fighting off the steady creep of unconsciousness. “Worrying about someone else’s problems can be a nice change every once and a while.”

He didn’t stick around for an answer, but if he’d thought back to it, he may have remembered something drifting around in his head as he fell asleep, gently unraveling his worries and putting them to rest.


End file.
